Jackson and Miller
by Not All Fun and Games
Summary: This is the story of Jackson and Miller in the bunker post 4x12. By virtue of the mentor relationships, there will be some Kabby as well. I love the growing relationship between Jackson and Miller; in the world of angst that is the 100, these boys are just there for each other, and they both deserve so much happiness. Mostly canon-compliant.
1. Chapter 1 - Waking Up

Jackson's eyes felt like they were on fire. They flickered open and all he could see was a haze around him. He had no clear recollection of anything but bits and pieces of memories started flowing back, each more painful than the last. He remembered the lottery, pulling names out of the bowl, the bowl smashing; the names going everywhere.

He tried to sit up, noticing some similar movements around him. Others were trying to wake up. His brain had come back to him just enough to realise the symptoms; they'd been gassed. Skaikru had held this gas; they'd been gassed by their own people.

Abby was stirring in front of him. He put his hand gently on her shoulder, though it felt like it weighed a tonne. She turned to look at him, then the rest of the room. The previously crowded room looked empty.

"The list," whispered Abby. They looked up to see Kane and Jaha standing on the raised walkway. Their faces were made of stone. "The list of the 100. They used it."

Jackson's heart dropped as he tried to remember who was on that list. He tried to look around but the gas had left his vision blurred. He stumbled to his feet, and the room swayed around him.

The bodies looked almost indistinguishable but then he saw it; a black man wearing the uniform of the guard. He stumbled to the body and dropped to his knees beside him.

"Nate," he whispered, rolling him onto his side.

The man's eyes flickered open slightly. "Eric? What happened?"

Jackson had run out of words. He just shook his head.

Nate sat up with Jackson's help. "Where is everyone?"

"Gone," whispered Jackson. "They had to decide."

Nate realised what he was saying and his eyes widened in fear. He looked around hurriedly. The man he was looking for was missing.

"Maybe he's with Kane," he said wildly, but the fear on his face was eloquent; he knew it was too late.

Jackson looked up at Kane and Jaha on the raised platform and Nate followed his gaze. The younger man's eyes filled with tears.

Kane saw them looking and moved down the walkway. The pile of names had been picked up and almost reverently placed in a pile. Kane picked up two slips and made his way to Nate. He wordlessly handed him the pieces of paper and then walked away. His face didn't change.

Jackson could only watch, one arm bracing Nate, as he read the names.

 _Nate Miller_ , said the first one, in Nate's own handwriting. The next one said the same, but it wasn't the same handwriting. David had never had a chance in the lottery.

Nate crumpled into Jackson's arms. His friends had not returned, and his father had not been chosen; had not wanted to be chosen. All Jackson could do was hold him steady, hoping that he would be enough to get him through the end of the world.


	2. Chapter 2 - Recovering

**Set in the Bunker. Post 4x12**

* * *

"Everyone's meeting in the centre." Abby had gone straight from medical to the assembly, but Jackson wanted to change. He'd found Nate lying on his bunk, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"I heard the announcement," Nate replied tonelessly.

"Listen, you have to be there. You know how ugly this can get," said Jackson.

Nate's reply was to throw his gun to Jackson without looking at him. Jackson caught it out of instinct but he held it away from his body gingerly. Nate must have seen the movement because he turned to look at Jackson incredulously.

"It's just a gun, what's it going to do?"

Jackson gritted his teeth against a number of replies. He put it down and took a step back.

"You really hate it?"

"Look at the damage we've done with them." Nate looked about to reply scathingly but must have seen something in Jackson's face that stopped him. He got to his feet and put his hands on Jackson's shoulders bracingly.

"Hey," he said softly, "it's alright." Jackson looked down. He didn't want to be weak in front of Nate; he'd been putting all his effort into being strong for him since the cull.

Nate, on the other hand, just pulled him into a hug. He was remembering Brian, who had adapted to using a gun in the months between Farm Station landing on Earth and reuniting with him. By the time they'd reunited, it had been like he'd been born using one; no hesitation.

Jackson had survived on Earth for the same length of time and still hadn't given up on his pacifism. While Nate felt like he'd been hardened beyond repair, Jackson wouldn't even use violence to defend himself. It made Nate feel ashamed. But he would pick up and use that gun if it meant protecting Jackson.

He released Jackson slowly but kept one hand on his shoulder as he reached for the gun with the other. When it was nestled in the crook of his arm, he grabbed Jackson's hand.

"Let's go," he said. Jackson smiled wryly. It was the first time Nate had sounded like himself since the death wave.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Lie Guarded

**This is a flashback to "A Lie Guarded".**

* * *

As they made their way to the meeting, Kane met them outside the centre as if he'd been waiting. He made no comment about Jackson's presence.

"Miller. There you are. I need you with me for this."

"Yes, sir," he said dryly.

Kane paused as if he was going to say something, then just nodded and turned away, obviously expecting Nate to follow.

Jackson smiled at Nate reassuringly and dropped his hand. Nate felt the loss of it too keenly. It penetrated through the mist that had surrounded him for days. Nate remembered the first time he realised he might have feelings for the other man.

 _As Abby stepped out in front of the drone, Nate's heart dropped._

 _"Abby," moaned Jackson, and despite the blood loss, Nate felt him try to go after her. He held on a little tighter to his arm, and Jackson stayed put. He wouldn't have got far, anyway; he'd lost too much blood._

 _Nate's heart was in his throat as he watched Abby stand in front of the drone. If anyone had to survive it was Luna, but there was no doing this without Abby, either. The two men watched helplessly, then collapsed back in relief as the drone fell to the ground._

 _"I've got to go help her," said Jackson, his voice weak with fear and relief. Nate felt a strange feeling sweep through him. It felt like resentment._

 _"You're not going anywhere until I can stop the bleeding," he said firmly._

 _"I'll be fine," said Jackson, still staring out from the cave._

 _"Jackson," said Nate, "look at me."_

 _When he did, his eyes were glassy and slightly unfocussed. "She'll do something stupid without me," he said with a weak attempt at humour. Nate could see the fear underneath the smile._

 _Nate worked faster. His first aid kit was being depleted fast with how quickly the blood soaked through the coverings. He found the burn tape and covered the gauze completely. The blood pooled beneath the coverings, and it almost stopped Nate' heart to see it._

 _"We've still got to get to the lab," he said. Jackson's gaze had fallen away again. Nate could only hope they'd all make it soon. There was only so much Nate could do; he needed Abby._

 _Nate put Jackson's good arm over his shoulder and lifted his gun again with the other one._

 _"Let's go," he said, trying to swallow his worry._


	4. Chapter 4 - Jackson recovers

**Flashback to Jackson recovering from a bullet wound, before they were on first name basis**

Jackson watched him go, his shoulders settling into his guard stance as he walked, holding the gun confidently. He shouldn't have reacted to the gun in that way, but he'd seen too much destruction in his time on Earth, and he'd treated too many gunshot wounds. His own arm twinged at the thought of the weapon, even though it had saved his life on the same occasion as he'd been wounded. Miller had saved his life; he'd saved all their lives.

 _Jackson felt useless as Abby gave orders for him to lie down after dressing his arm. The others were moving in. Abby had already started setting up the lab equipment they would need. The guards were scouting and Murphy and Emori were hunting for extra supplies._

 _A knock on his door made him startle, but that only sent pain shooting through his arm. The painkiller had only taken the edge off. The pain was still insistent._

 _"How are you doing?" Asked Miller, sticking his head around the door. Jackson started to sit up, so he wouldn't look as useless as he felt. Concern crossed Miller's face and he crossed the room in two strides to lay a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Don't get up. You need rest."_

 _"I'm fine," insisted Jackson. "Thanks to you."_

 _"Hey, you told me what to do. I only followed the doctor's orders," he joked. "I'll leave you to rest, I just wanted to," he paused, looking awkward for some reason, "to make sure you were ok."_

 _As Miller collected himself and smiled at Jackson, the latter felt his heart catch and then speed up a notch._

 _"I'll catch you 'round," said Miller._

 _"Hey, Miller," said Jackson, catching himself off guard. "Be careful out there."_

 _"I think Raven took care of the killing machines," smiled Miller._

 _"They're not the only thing out there."_

 _"Don't waste your healing energy worrying about me," laughed Miller. "Get better, doc."_

 _He was gone before Jackson could say anything else. He relaxed into his pillows, his heart still speeding. He tried to assign the reaction to the pain or the painkillers. He managed to half convince himself before the painkillers dragged him to sleep. His dreams were filled with gunshot and the smell of blood._


	5. Chapter 5 - The Talk

**Where Miller and Jackson actually talk about their feelings. (Based on the assumption that Bryan was one of Jasper's death cult members)**

With their jobs – always on shift work – Nate felt like he hadn't seen Jackson in weeks. It was grating on him, particularly because it seemed that Jackson was the only friend he had left. The bunker was tiny; smaller than the Ark and Mount Weather, and he was getting claustrophobic.

He checked the time. Jackson should have been back from the hospital by now. He sighed. He should be trying to sleep, but it seemed a distant goal. The breathing of the people in the surrounding beds sounded louder and louder with every passing second. He gritted his teeth against the noise.

Maybe a walk would work.

Life in the bunker was too much like life in the Ark. Shift times were strict, and there was no break from the endless fluorescents in the hallways. They made Nate's eyes dry. He walked through an empty hallway. It was the time when all non-essential personnel were asleep. He was supposed to be, as well.

Though he didn't have a conscious destination in mind he wasn't surprised when he wound up in the corridor that led to the hospital.

Abby was walking away from it.

"Nathan?" She said in surprise. "What are you doing here? Is everything ok?" She bit her lip as if regretting the question.

"Everything's fine," he said, snapping.

"I'm so sorry," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "We all miss David so much."

Nate blinked away the tears that came to his eyes.

"Thanks," he said gruffly, looking away.

"Are you after something?" She asked. "If you're looking for Kane, he's in the monitoring room."

"I was looking for Jackson, actually."

"Oh. He went to bed about an hour ago," she said, looking at her watch.

He hadn't come to the dorm. Maybe she meant the medic bed; the bed Abby or Jackson slept in when they were both needed on call.

Abby smiled at him, and continued to the medical supply cupboard and back to the hospital.

The door to the medic bed was next to the hospital. He stood next to it, then knocked, feeling like an idiot.

The door opened from the inside and Nate found himself face to face with Jackson.

"What is it?" He asked. Though soft, there was no warmth in his voice.

"I just," Nate started, ashamed of stuttering slightly. He leant on the doorframe. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Jackson stood back to allow him in. There was no space so he sat on the small bed.

Jackson didn't sit. He stood by the closed door, his arms crossed, looking at the ground.

"I thought you'd come back to the dorm," said Nate, cursing himself slightly for being so lame. "I thought we could..." _Could what?_ He thought to himself. _Play cards? Sleep at the same time in adjacent bunks?_ Even that seemed a luxury.

"I wanted to be alone. I know it's selfish, but I have access to it. And Abby never uses it anymore." Abby took every opportunity to be with Kane now, so every time she had to sleep she would go to his quarters. Albeit with her pager strapped to her with the volume turned up.

"It's not selfish," said Nate. "Most people would give anything for a bit of privacy here. Not that there's much to be had." He was nervous, he realised. Really nervous. It hit him hard just how alone they were now, for the first time in too long.

The room grew still with the awkward silence that followed.

Nate stood up abruptly. "I'd better go," he said.

"There's no hard feelings, you know," said Jackson, not looking up from his feet, or uncrossing his arms.

"What do you mean?" Asked Nate, looking his friend in the face for the first time.

"I know. With Brian and all. I don't. I don't expect anything more." Brian had chosen to die instead of fight. Brian had never forgiven Nate. Brian was irrevocably in the past to Nathan.

"What?" Asked Nate curtly. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"I didn't want to impose," he muttered, but added quickly, "but I'm here if you need me."

"Eric, you're the only friend I have left in this stupid place," he said, irrationally angry for some reason. "And having you in the next bunk is the only way I'll get a decent night sleep." Jackson's quiet, sad acceptance of the status quo broke some resistance in Nate. He had been patient with Jackson because he thought he was shy. But it was because Jackson thought he didn't feel the same? "I'm sick of getting barely five minutes with you when we're both off work. I'm sick of you pulling away when I hug you. I'm sick of you treating me like glass."

Jackson met his eyes with surprise.

Nate stepped forward, his heart hammering. He pulled Jackson forward without breaking the eye contact. He grabbed the back of his head, threading his hand through the man's black hair. He kept eye contact the entire time as he rested his forehead against the other man's. Jackson seemed about to resist, but only enough that his head rested in Nate's hand.

"I just want _you_ , ok?" He said roughly. Jackson shook his head, but didn't try to pull away again.

"Why?" Asked Jackson. Nate didn't respond to the idiotic question. Instead, he pressed his lips fiercely against Jackson's.

"I thought," breathed Jackson raggedly when he pulled away. "I thought it was just because… You know, with the end of the world."

"You thought it was just a pre-apocalypse flirtation?" Asked Nate with dark humour.

"Basically," said Jackson, finally smiling slightly.

"You're an idiot." Jackson's smile reached his eyes.

"Jackson!" Yelled Abby, pounding on the door outside. "There's a brawl in the kitchens. I need you."

"To be continued," said Nate, gently pushing Jackson towards the door.

Nate himself rushed to the kitchen. Kane was already in the thick of it, trying to break apart the participants. Nathan waded into the fray, using the baton that he never went without to separate the fighters.

It felt like only a few minutes that they were all contained. Some of the guards were assigned to take the prisoners to cool off in the cells, while some prisoners were escorted to the hospital.

"Go to bed, Miller," said Kane, once the fighters had been rounded up. "You're not on duty until the shift after next."

"Sir, I don't mind working the next one."

Kane sighed. " _Go_ , son."


	6. Chapter 6 - Miller's wounded

**Miller gets hurt in a brawl in the bunker, and makes a sacrifice for Jackson.**

"Jackson," snapped Abby, and from the tone of voice, it wasn't the first time she'd tried to get his attention.

"Sorry, Abby."

She sighed heavily. "I know this is hard," she said. "But it will get easier I promise. We'll come to the realisation we're all people." The increasing fights between clans – despite Octavia's resolutions, tensions were high – made training people in Skaikru medicines difficult. As a result, Jackson and Abby were stretched as far as they could go. "We'll need to train the grounder healers in our medicines as soon as possible," she said.

Jackson agreed; her eyes were heavy and her face looked thin. He was sure he looked the same.

"We need a guinea pig; someone who won't mind being treated using our medicines by a grounder," she mused.

"You rang?" Said a voice behind them. It was full of humour, but the clear strain of pain soaked through the words. It was Nathan, being carried by Kane.

Jackson's heart stopped. Both men were covered in blood. Kane rested Nate on a bed and Abby sprang to action, Jackson's actions a second delayed by his fear. While Abby injected Nathan and questioned Kane, Jackson grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the guard uniform.

"One way to see me naked," joked Nate, grimacing in pain.

"Shut up," growled Jackson. Once his chest was clear, Jackson could clearly see the knife wound that sliced from his shoulder blade to his bellybutton in a wide arc. It was deep, but it hadn't hit anything vital; the blood was all a deep rich shade of red.

Nathan's eyes started to flutter shut; Abby had put him to sleep.

"Stitches," Abby said. Jackson passed her what she'd need and tried to focus on the things he could deal with - the blood pumping out of the wound and assisting Abby with the procedure.

He tried to avoid looking at his face. When his doomed effort failed, his hands slipped slightly. Kane had sunk into a chair beside the bed. He was holding his arm at a strange angle.

"Dislocated?" Asked Jackson, mostly trying to distract himself from what he was doing. A man like Kane would be fine with a dislocation for a few more minutes.

"What?" Snapped Abby. She'd finished sewing up Nate, and shoved the disinfectant and bandages into Jackson's hands and turned to Kane. "Sit still," she said angrily.

Jackson disinfected and taped the coverings over the wound. He'd been a doctor long enough that his hands only started shaking once he was done.

He wiped the blood from his hands and tried to stop the shaking. He had to wipe tears from his eyes to see his hands properly, to make sure the blood had gone. Nathan's blood. His head span sickeningly.

Abby was bossing Kane around in the far corner so Jackson took a seat by the bed. Nathan was a bad colour.

"The boy was the priority," said Kane defensively, in response to Abby's remonstrations.

"Obviously," snapped Abby, but she clearly didn't have an actual comeback because she fell silent.

"Octavia's taken the guns. Five citizens from each clan will be armed; she will select the ones she trusts."

Jackson's head shot up in alarm. No guns? That gave Skaikru a significant disadvantage. At the same time, though, it was a relief. Guns could do a lot more damage.

Abby was muttering. Clearly she was as torn as he was. "It was Miller's idea," said Kane, nodding in his direction and meeting Jackson's eyes for a second. He smiled sadly, and with a knowing look. "But I agree. They won't trust us while we carry guns. Octavia will teach our five how to use their weapons. And we still have shockbatons."

Jackson hadn't slept in too long. He felt himself drift in the chair as Kane and Abby bickered in the background. Usually he would have paid attention, but his worry had sapped the last of his energy.

He woke to a dark hospital. Abby sat in the chair opposite him, also napping, but she seemed to rouse when he did.

"You ok?" She asked softly.

"Yeah," said Jackson, lying through his teeth.

"I checked him about an hour ago," she said, taking a quick look at the time, "he'll be fine. His uniform saved his life."

Jackson felt muscles he didn't know he'd tensed relax.

"Do you want to go get some sleep?" She asked, "I'll watch him."

Jackson shook his head. "You've barely slept. I've got it."

She stood up, stretching. As she walked past him, she rested on hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "None of us can treat our loved ones with a steady hand," she said gently, "you did really well."

He looked up in surprise. She only smiled and continued on to bed.

"She gone?" Groaned Nathan, without opening his eyes. Jackson's heart raced.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Asked Jackson as he leant forward to grab one of Nathan's hands. He felt his pulse as he did so. It was a little thready.

"I didn't want her fussing over me. She's worse than Clarke. You're much more fun to have fussing over me." He finally opened his eyes to smirk at Jackson.

"I knew you wanted to spend more time together; you picked a hell of a way to do it," Jackson teased but his heart wasn't in it, because it was still stuck somewhere in his throat.

"Well, it isn't easy getting leave from the guard." The mention of the guard reminded Jackson of something.

"You told Octavia to confiscate the guns."

"She would have done it eventually. I thought it should happen _before_ someone gets shot."

"As opposed to stabbed?"

"Would you rather have treated a hole in my lung?" Asked Nathan rhetorically. Jackson shuddered. Nathan stretched, grimacing with pain.

Jackson's hands were shaking and Nate could feel them. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm still alive. I'm still ok."

Jackson buried his head in his free hand.

"Why did you suggest it?"

"You know why," said Nate, rolling his eyes at Jackson.

"Because of my fear?" He asked incredulously. "You lost your advantage."

"Not because of your fear, exactly." Nate seemed nervous, and unusually cagey.

"What, then?"

"I patched you up when you were shot by the drone, remember?" Jackson remembered only too well. "That was the first time I realised how tough you were."

"Surviving getting shot in the arm?" Jackson asked, raising his eyebrows. "You've had far worse injuries."

"No," whispered Nate. He'd stopped looking at Jackson and he played with the corner of his blanket nervously. Jackson waited silently. Finally, Nate looked up at him. "I couldn't handle treating that wound. It was so… so much blood. It had torn your arm open. It wasn't a neat hole."

"No," said Jackson slowly. "They never are."

"I realised that's what I did to people, and you have to patch them up. I could put a bullet through an enemy or a meal with ease, but you have to have people carted in here, ripped open. You have to sew up holes in people's skin that rips through their bodies. This was only on your arm, and I could barely…" Nate's words faded away.

"You wanted the guns gone so _I_ didn't have to treat bullet wounds?" Asked Jackson. It was too ludicrous.

"Basically," muttered Nate. "I was right, though? That's why you hate them?"

Jackson couldn't deny it. He looked at Nate, speechless.


	7. Chapter 7 - Claustrophobia

**Thanks Loosely Divided for the lovely review. I hope you continue to enjoy. This couple are such a pleasure to write. They are so alike in their passion and their drive, but so different in their backgrounds and their priorities.**

 **Miller inevitably starts to rail against the claustrophobia... (some swearing)**

"I can't _do_ anything," raged Nathan. "I'm stuck in a box and I can't even keep myself busy."

He paced the tiny space, and Jackson could only watch with worry. Miller's face pulled with pain and Jackson jumped off the bed.

"Sit," he said, guiding Nate onto the bed and lifting the corner of the covering to check the wound beneath.

A trickle of blood dribbled down his stomach.

"Nate, you have to stop this. You need to let it heal."

"I _need_ to learn how to use the weapons," said Nate. "I _need_ to go back to work."

He let out a yell and slammed his fist into the wall. The tear in his wound widened slightly.

"It's fine for you!" He spat at Jackson. "You're off playing friendly with the grounder healers. I get to sleep, and rest, and _go crazy_ ," he said. "I finally got space, and freedom. After a year in the skybox, and the rest of my life in the Ark, I came to Earth. It was amazing, and frightening, and exciting. And we were fucking _alive_. Now we can all turn back into mannequins again."

Nate had never really talked about his time with the 100 delinquents before the rest of the Ark fell to Earth. All Jackson knew was that he'd been imprisoned for stealing supplies.

"What was it like?" Asked Jackson quietly. "What was it like being sent to the ground?"

Nate's face closed off. "You don't want to know."

Nate wished he'd never brought up being sent to Earth. Jackson looked at him with such gentleness, and he couldn't explain what he'd done back then.

He remembered Lincoln tied up, and shooting at human beings for the first time. He remembered the explosives, and standing at the door to the dropship, firing into a crowd that contained some of his own people.

They'd thought the grounders were all scum, then; murderous barbarians. It didn't excuse it, though. He'd helped keep Octavia prisoner, as well, when Bellamy had ordered it. She seemed to have forgiven him for that; he was one of the five Skaikru still trusted with weapons, after all.

Jackson had been watching the interplay of emotions on Nathan's face.

"It's ok," he said. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I wasn't a very nice person back then," he said. "It took the mountain men treating us like we'd treated the grounders to make me realise that it was wrong."

"The grounders were trying to kill you."

"You can still treat your enemy with respect," Nate smiled tightly, thinking of Jackson in the same scenario. "You probably could have got them to be your friend even then. All you've ever wanted is peace."

"You're not the only person who's killed," said Jackson stiffly.

Nate met his eyes in shock. Jackson had never talked about that. "That was different, you…"

"Didn't have a choice?" Asked Jackson wryly. "Like being a teenager sent to the ground in the middle of hundreds of hardened soldiers? Or being trapped underground and 'harvested'?" His voice came out rough at the end. "We don't live in the Ark anymore. We've learnt about shades of grey. That means we do things that seemed impossible to us before."

Nathan seemed to slump, the fight going out of him. He leaned against Jackson's side, and the latter put his arm around him.

"We're gonna be fine, Nate."

"No, we're not." Said Nathan. "But thanks."


	8. Chapter 8 - Miller's Future

**This is a Miller centric chapter. Miller discusses his future in the bunker after his injury.**

Nathan fronted up to Kane, and was unsurprised to see Abby waiting as well. Her presence turned his stomach to ice. he had been dreading this. When Kane asked him to sit, he sat right on the edge of the chair, nervous about this meeting. Kane was more formal than he'd seen him before. Abby stood, her arms across her chest.

"Is there a problem, Sir?"

"Dr Griffin would prefer it if you were taken off active duty."

"What?" Cried Miller, leaping to his feet. "You can't do that."

"Sit down, please," said Kane kindly. "We only want what's best for you, son."

"Taking my job away isn't it," he argued. Fear was crawling its way up his spine and clouding his head.

"Miller. There is plenty you can do to be helpful."

"Oh great. As long as I can still be _helpful_." He didn't know how to be anything else. His father had raised him to be a guard; teaching him in private to use a shock-baton from a young age. He had taken to the guns Bellamy had found immediately. He wanted to protect his home, his people. It was what he'd been raised to do. If his father knew he wasn't doing it…

"Miller," said Kane softly, "your father sacrificed his spot in this bunker to keep you safe."

"Don't you dare," hissed Miller.

"We can't let you get hurt."

"So I sit around being _safe_. My father was Chief Guard. I can do this job in my _sleep_." Kane looked down, and his mouth was drawn into a thin line. Miller had never thought about the relationship between his father and Kane. Perhaps it was closer than he'd known.

Abby put a reassuring hand on Kane's shoulder, but spoke to Miller. "We can't risk you reinjuring yourself." Her tone was less soft than Kane's. She spoke with the detached tone of someone sure of winning the argument.

He wouldn't survive in the bunker for five years without his job. It would kill him. He opened the door and stormed through it, slamming it behind him.

Jackson waited on the other side.

"Did you do this?" hissed Miller. He needed to take his frustration out on someone, and he suddenly couldn't stand the look of compassion on Jackson's face. "Did you convince Abby not to clear me for work?"

"Why would I do that?" Jackson seemed bewildered.

"To keep me _safe_?" Sneered Miller.

"Of course I want to keep you safe. But I didn't make the decision. You're not fit to work, Nate."

 _Not fit to work?_ Miller felt like he'd been slapped. He shoved past Jackson and almost ran down the hall before he realised he had no idea where he was going. Jackson, Kane. They were the only people in the bunker that he had anything to do with. The other guards were fine, but he wasn't close to them. Octavia he knew from before, but that came with a capital "B" when it came to Octavia. The girl she was when the 100 landed bore no resemblance to the leader he saw now. In short, he had no one to turn to. He had nowhere to go, except back to his bunk, surrounded by people.

He couldn't go there.

He wandered the hallways, trying to get lost. Jackson hadn't come after him. He couldn't decide if he was glad or not.

He wandered until he found the door to the bunker.

He climbed the steps wearily. He didn't want to admit it, but the pain from his wound was grinding him down.

He sat down on the steps, looking up at the unbreakable steel door that would let him out. In five years. If they survived that long. And if praimfaya hadn't buried them. And if the ground was survivable again in five years. There were no guarantees left.

Soft footsteps sounded behind him.

"I know about Abby's decision," said Octavia.

"I guess you'll have to give my weapons to someone else," said Miller, not turning to look at her.

"You can keep your weapons. How many times did you save my brother's life, Miller?"

"By killing Trikru, your clan."

"The clan that was killing us. And you fought the mountain men. You fought back without even having real weapons. Whether you're Skaikru guard or not, you've earnt your weapons." She sounded sincere, not like Kane trying to make her feel better, or Jackson's compassion, just stating the cold hard facts.

"I don't know what to do here now," he admitted, feeling weak.

"I do," she said bluntly. "You supported me to get rid of guns. I want your support for the peace. You've lost your job to an Azgeda blade. And unless I've misjudged you badly, you'd still rather peace than revenge."

"I do." Small flutterings of hope besieged him. He turned to look at her.

"I want you to be one of my ambassadors. We need to be one Cru. I think you can help."

"You've got Kane for that." The name came out twisted. He hadn't forgiven him.

"I need as many as possible. The clans have made peace with each other before. They will again. They only resist against Skaikru now."

"Jackson said their healers were getting along well." The work with the healers was the only thing Jackson had talked about recently.

"Your boyfriend is naive," said Octavia bluntly.

"My boyfriend?" Miller shivered. Was that what he was? They'd kissed once before he'd been injured and since his injury, nothing.

Octavia shrugged. "Word travels fast when there's nothing to do but talk."

"We haven't really..." Miller sighed. "I don't know what we are. I think I ruined it." His heart tore at the possibility.

"I don't think it would be easy to get rid of the affections of Eric Jackson once you've won them." She sighed sadly. "You're a lucky man." She sounded nostalgic, and Miller knew she was thinking of Lincoln.

Miller remembered her look on her face as Pike put a bullet in Lincoln's brain. He would never judge her for killing Pike, even if it had contributed to losing Brian. She had been entitled to that kill.

"Lincoln was an amazing human, Octavia. I'm... I'm really glad I knew him."

"Thank you."

"And I'm so sorry." She didn't need to ask what for. Both were lost in the past.

"We were so young, then."

"As opposed to the old man and woman we are now," he joked half-heartedly.

"I feel old." She sounded it, too; world-weary.

"Me too." They both laughed shortly, then lapsed into silence. It felt comfortable, but it was soaked in the sadness of nostalgia.

"Even Kane sees me as Heda now," she said, and there was such sorrow in her voice that Miller reached to squeeze her hand. She smiled up at him. "Here, only you seem to remember the girl from under the floor."

"The girl who got to be first on the ground."

"The girl who flirted her way through all the boys from the 100."

"You never flirted with me," he said, feigning hurt.

She laughed. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"You're forgiven."

"Until my brother comes home, you're the only one who doesn't see Heda. Promise me you'll never forget that little girl who saw the promise of Earth."

"I never could. She had quite the impact."

She laughed. "Now go make up with that handsome boyfriend of yours," she said. "Then clear your schedule; I want you in all meetings from now on. You and I will be spending a lot of time together."

He mock saluted. "Yes, ma-am."


	9. Chapter 9 - Jackson and Abby

**More Jackson this chapter - Jackson is scared for Miller - Abby helps.**

 **Thanks again, Loosely Divided! It's so nice knowing someone appreciates them as much as I do :) Xx**

Jackson's shift had ended an hour ago. He'd gone to support Nathan, but he'd been brushed off. Jackson knew he was going to take it badly, but he'd wanted to help in any way he could. Maybe he'd helped by giving Nathan a target for his rage. The thought of that brought a lump to his throat. He couldn't stop working; as soon as his shift had ended, he'd have nothing to stop him thinking about it. And if he went back to his bunk, Nathan might be there. If he went to the on-call room, Nathan would think he was avoiding him. It was better to keep working even if there was nothing to do. They had no patients; he was only checking everything for the hundredth time.

He wondered for the thousandth time whether he should have gone after Nathan immediately. But Nathan had spurned his help. Maybe he'd needed space. Jackson swung between regretting his decision, and believing it to be his only choice. His stomach was in a tight ball thinking about it. What if Nathan didn't recover from this? Jackson knew Nathan well enough to know that his job defined him, in the same way Jackson's did. He didn't know how he would cope if someone took his patients away. He didn't know how Nathan would cope with having his weapons taken away.

"Jackson, you need to knock off," said Abby, behind him, startling him out of his thought pattern.

"I just…" he said, but he didn't have a response or an excuse ready.

"You're just working to avoid thinking about other things. I know that trick," she smiled. She put her hand on his arm. "We made the right decision, Jackson." He swallowed back his retort. _She_ had made the decision. But he'd have made exactly the same one in her shoes.

"I'm scared," he admitted, "I wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't a doctor. I don't know what he'll do without his role here."

"Jackson, you're a good doctor. The best I've ever seen. But you can't _fix_ this. This is his issue to work through. All you can do is provide your support."

Abby had always been a hard mentor. From when he first started as her apprentice, even when she finally trusted him to run procedures on his own, the only feedback he got was where he could improve. He never minded; she pushed herself as hard as she did him. But her words warmed him now.

"What if it's not enough?" He whispered, voicing his real fear at last. What if he could do nothing?

"Do you remember Raven after her injury?"

Raven was strong. She'd recovered mentally, but it had taken her months. Nathan was expected to recover physically eventually. But it had almost destroyed Raven. Jackson's thoughts were jumping all over the place.

"I failed Raven," said Abby, swallowing hard against her admission. "I let Clarke leaving overshadow everything and I didn't help Raven the way she needed help. I kept trying to _fix_ her, and never let her fix herself. Don't make my mistake. Nathan's lost his father. He's lost his friends. Now he's lost his job, which gave him purpose. He's lost the freedom of movement he took for granted. You have to let him come to terms with all of that. Just be there for him."

"Thank you, Abby," he said. He still couldn't swallow past the hard lump in his throat, but Abby's words had stuck.

"Just look after yourself as well, Jackson. I can't lose you, too."

Abby had tears in her eyes as she said it. She hadn't mentioned Clarke to him once since the death-wave, but she was a constant presence in their conversations. This was the most Abby had alluded to her. He wrapped his arms around her, wordlessly. She hugged him back tightly.

"You have an amazing daughter, Abby. She'll find her way back to you."

"I know," she whispered, but her heart wasn't in it. She was more scared than she was letting on. It scared Jackson, as it always did, to see Abby scared. She was his pillar, and he would do anything for her.

"Am I interrupting something?" Nathan's voice drifted quietly from the doorway.

"Not a thing," said Abby, letting Jackson go.

"Can I steal Jackson?"

"Please," she laughed, wiping her tears away brusquely, "he's outstayed his welcome."

Jackson smiled nervously at Nathan, trying to interpret his expression. He seemed more at ease, but there was still a stiffness to his shoulders.

"Oh, and Nathan Miller?" Said Abby, pretending sternness, as Jackson walked towards the door. Nathan turned to look at her. "Look after my boy."

He saluted for the second time that day. "Yes, ma'am."

Jackson flushed and almost ran from the room.

As they reached the corridor, Nathan started laughing. Jackson smiled in relief. He hadn't known what to expect.

"What's it like having Abby Griffin as a boss? Is it as terrifying as it seems?"

Jackson smiled, thinking about the woman who was his mentor, his best friend, his second mother, and yes, the most terrifying person he knew. "It's the best thing in the world."

"Well, I'm still scared of her. Your Abby is a very different woman to Chancellor Griffin."

"I know," Jackson smiled. "But she's always been there for me. When she saw how much I wanted to be a doctor, she'd let me watch procedures until I finished school, then I became her apprentice. Clarke would always come in after school, too," Jackson mused, remembering some of the happiest times of his life. "Once I started doing procedures on my own, Clarke would help. Before Jake was floated and Clarke was locked up, they were the happiest family I knew. I always envied them that, but they never intentionally made me feel left out."

Nathan looked at Jackson out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if Jackson had noticed his word use.

"Do you think Clarke's ok?" Asked Nathan.

"She has to be," said Jackson. He couldn't imagine an alternative. She had been like his sister, it hurt too much to consider the prospect of her death.

"So many people are gone," said Nathan, sadly.

Jackson slipped an arm behind Nathan's back. It was only when he did this that Nathan realised he'd been walking with a hunch, trying to take the pressure off his wound. He wrapped his arm gratefully around Jackson's and allowed himself to lean slightly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Pure angst as the boys talk about the people they've lost**

* * *

 _"Nate,_ " said David in his dream, " _Come get me._ " His dad stood at the bunker door, blood dripping from his nose and eyes, his skin mottled with radiation poisoning.

The setting changed and suddenly he was on the Ark being arrested. The clanging of the door resounded through his brain and struck fear into his heart. Only months until he was floated for this.

The deathwave was coming and he stood outside, without even a spacesuit to protect him. He could feel his skin burning and as he sucked in the air, it burnt his lungs too.

He had his gun in his hand and the door to the bunker stood ajar several metres away. Crowds of people suddenly filled the space between him and refuge. He ran for it, pushing people out of the way when they weren't quick enough. Someone grabbed his arm roughly, holding him back from safety. He turned and shot at the person. The bullet went straight through his father's head.

He woke up panting, covered in sweat.

There was the dark outline of someone sitting on the side of his bed and he realised someone held his hand. He jumped, convinced that it was still part of his dream before his waking mind reasserted itself. The dark shape resolved into Jackson.

Jackson just sat quietly while Nathan breathed himself back into a normal rhythm.

"My dad should be here instead of me," said Nathan quietly.

Those words hit Jackson like a spear through his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, and squeezed Nathan's hand as hard.

"Please don't say that," he said, his chest constricting in panic.

"He would be making everything ok. He would be making peace with the grounders, and protecting everyone. Kane trusts him. Everyone loved him." Nathan wiped away the tears that had started streaming down his face.

Jackson lay down next to Nathan and wrapped his arms around him. Nathan rested his forehead against Jackson's cheek.

"I killed him, Eric," said Nathan, his voice broken. "I wasn't on the list. Kane chose me. He chose wrong."

"What…" started Jackson, then he had to clear his throat and start again. "What would have happened if your Dad woke up to find himself inside the bunker, and his son outside?"

Nathan shook his head, but answered anyway. "He would have killed Kane." Jackson breathed again, not realising until that moment that he'd been holding his breath against the answer.

"I was at the Ark when you were in the Mountain, Nate. Abby," Jackson paused, knowing he shouldn't be telling this story. "Abby wanted to evacuate. The grounders were threatening and we hadn't made peace with them. Your father refused to go. He wasn't going anywhere until you were safely back to him. I've never seen anyone love their child that much. Even Abby and Jaha voluntarily sent their children to the ground. Your father fought for you every step of the way. They didn't tell him you were going to the ground until it was too late. It almost killed him."

"Well, loving me did kill him."

"No. The radiation killed him. Just like it killed everyone else."

"Why aren't we dead?" Whispered Nathan.

"Because we're fucking lucky." The use of the swear word brought a spontaneous laugh from Nathan. He'd never heard Jackson swear.

"I don't feel lucky."

"I don't either," admitted Jackson. Nathan thought about Jackson's life. Despite the fact that Nathan had grown up on Alpha Station with the Griffins, he didn't know much about Jackson's early life; he had only moved there after becoming a doctor. Jackson never talked about his biological family.

"Mum never talked about my dad," said Jackson when Nathan asked. "And my mum died when I was still at school." He paused. He never talked about his mum. "All I wanted to do after that was help people."

"I'm sorry," said Nathan. "It must have been hard."

"The Ark was hard for a lot of people. I don't hold the monopoly on that."

Nathan thought about his own upbringing. "Yeah, I guess so."

They were silent for a bit, but the silence brought up too many negative thoughts.

"What was your mum like?" Asked Nathan to break the silence.

Jackson thought about it. Over ten years since her death, and it still hurt too much to think about it. "She was sick for a long time before she died," he said. That was how he remembered her now, to his own disgust, as a woman wasted away by cancer.

"Before that? When you were a kid?"

He'd grown up on Factory Station originally. She wasn't fastidious, and as often happens to children, he'd grown up to be the opposite.

Nathan's arm wrapped around his middle. Jackson smiled at the tentative gesture.

"She was really spacey," he said finally. "She used to annoy me so much, because she'd tell me stories about people I didn't care about every time she got home from work. But she loved like no one else. She loved everyone so much. She would forgive someone in an instant if they were sorry."

"She sounds wonderful," said Nathan.

"She was," he whispered. The old memory of her dying intruded suddenly. He tried to shake it free, but he found himself crying. It had just been that kind of day.

"I'm sorry for asking," said Nathan.

"Don't be. I should remember her more. It's just… I keep remembering her death instead of her life. She died in my arms. I was only fourteen."

Nathan squeezed him. "I'm sorry."

"I told you, I don't hold the monopoly. You lost your mum, too."

"I don't remember her," admitted Nathan. "The only echo of her in my life was how much sway she still held over my dad. He never got over her death."

The silence between them felt fragile. Their friendship had barely bloomed before the death in Becca's lab. They hadn't even acknowledged their feelings before they were locked in the bunker. Now they were holding together with a flimsy thread.


	11. Chapter 11 - Argument

**The confrontation that I know they would eventually have about Jackson's work ethic**

Nathan's mood was as sour as it could get. The meeting had turned into slings across the table as each clan argued. When one of the Sangedakru drew a blade, the meeting had ended, with Octavia's entourage putting a swift end to things. No one drew a blade in Octavia's presence without consequences. At least they had yet to avoid any deaths. _Yet_ , he thought sourly.

When he made it to the medical room, Jackson wasn't there, but he could hear his voice from the hospital. Abby must have him working late. _Again_. They'd agreed to meet in the medical on call room.

When he entered the hospital, it was empty except for Jackson and one of the grounder healers; a young woman called Sain. She seemed to be crying, and Jackson was hugging her, talking softly with a sad smile on his face. She chuckled softly.

Nathan couldn't hear what either of them were saying, but Nathan's day crashed down on him. Not for the first time, his anger turned towards Jackson, and his fucking _compassion_. The rational side of Nathan's mind knew he was being selfish, but he was too angry to care. Nathan _needed_ him, and Jackson was off comforting someone else.

Jackson looked up and met Nathan's eyes in surprise. He smiled wearily over the grounder girl's shoulder when he recognised him, but Nathan only glared and turned away. He made his way back to the bunks in disgust. When he threw himself onto the bed and realised Jackson hadn't followed he was even more disgusted. Mostly at himself.

The reason he liked Jackson was his compassion, wasn't it? That was what had drawn him to the man, but lately it had only annoyed him. The man was too soft, he thought. He groaned and put his hands over his eyes.

He woke up with a start, only realising on waking that he'd drifted. More bunks were filled, but the lights weren't off yet.

Jackson's bunk was empty.

He swung himself upright and lurched to his feet. He stared at the empty bunk, feeling his stomach churn. Why couldn't he just get this right?

He walked to the medical room and knocked. Déjà vu flooded him. When Jackson opened the door and crossed his arms, it intensified.

They hadn't kissed since that day. It seemed ludicrous to Nathan that he could have this man standing right there and not kiss him, but something always held him back.

"It's Bryan," he said, without preamble. Jackson stiffened and stepped back, his arms loosening in surprise.

"What?" He asked, his voice soaked in hurt.

Nathan closed the door behind him. They were alone again in the tiny room.

"You, Eric," he said, struggling and failing to find the right words. "You're… compassionate." He spoke with the frustration level he felt. It was an inadequate word, all of a sudden, to describe how very much Jackson cared.

It was impossible to articulate it. Jackson looked hurt, and Nathan didn't know how to make it better.

"Eric, I love you," he said abruptly.

Jackson's face was full of shock. He opened his mouth but no words came out. His expression was very eloquent, though. It just asked a question. Why? Why if Nathan loved him did he keep running away? Why had they not picked up where they'd left off before Nathan's injury?

"The grounder girl," said Nathan, his eyes trained somewhere on Jackson's chest. He realised his explanation was disjointed, but his head was a mess.

"What about her? Her sister died in Praimfaya."

"And so did my Dad, and so did all of our parents, friends, lovers," snapped Nathan.

"So her suffering doesn't matter?" Asked Jackson incredulously.

"No, it matters. It matters to all of us. We all carry around our suffering. But you, Jackson," he said pointedly. Jackson flinched slightly at the use of his last name. Nathan hadn't used it in so long. "You carry around all of it."

"What?"

"Do you know why Bryan and I broke up?"

Jackson shook his head mutely.

"Bryan saved _his_ friend's life at the expense of the rest of Skaikru. He prioritised Skaikru safety over 300 human lives when he chose Pike. He prioritised my safety over everyone else's when he defected from Pike. He chose _his_ loved ones over every other life. He chose his loved ones over himself."

"That's natural, Nate," said Jackson softly, trying to get Nathan to look him in the eye.

"He broke his heart trying to save those he loved. And he killed himself because he couldn't handle it."

"Nathan. I'm so sorry." Jackson moved to put a hand on Nathan's shoulder but the younger boy moved away.

"You don't understand. He tore himself up just trying to save his loved ones. You? You try to save _everyone_." Nathan heard his voice rising. He was so angry at Jackson. "You're going to try to save every single stupid person in this place. You will listen to my nightmares about my Dad, you'll give a grounder girl your shoulder to cry on. You'll cover for Abby every time she has to go be Ambassador, even though she's not needed. You'll run the fucking _death_ lottery because Kane asked you to, even though I _saw_ how much it destroyed you to do it."

"I'm a doctor, Nathan, that's my job."

"Not. Anymore. Now it's your job to survive, just like the rest of us."

"I can't just…"

"You can't just let people suffer, I know. But we're _all_ suffering. And guess what? There's not a thing you can do about it."

Jackson's eyes were full of tears. "I can't accept that."

"Well, you're going to have to. Because I'm not watching another man I love destroy himself."

"You're asking me to stop being a doctor."

"No, I'm asking you to _just_ be a doctor. Just do your job, Eric. Just like every other person here. Just do your job."

Nathan stared at Jackson, but he had no response. He just looked back at him, his mouth pinched into a thin line.

Nathan shook his head. He couldn't soften those words. He'd said what he'd needed to say, and frustration still raged too strongly in his gut to back down on this.

"I've gotta go. Need my sleep," he muttered finally, turning to the door.

"Nathan, wait."

"What?" He asked, one hand on the doorknob.

"You ask the impossible."

Nathan turned around. "Like you all did telling me I couldn't be a guard?" He turned around. Jackson's eyes were red from tiredness, and heavy bags sat underneath. His face was pale, and pinched, and he looked even thinner than usual. Nathan knew he would see his ribs clearly if he took his shirt off. "Abby would tell you exactly what I'm telling you if she wasn't busy having _exactly the same problem_."

That drew a slight chuckle from Jackson, but his eyes were still dull. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to come straight here as soon as your shift ends. I will drag you to the kitchens and force-feed you your rations if I have to. We'll go for a walk so you don't go stir-crazy. We'll come back here where we will both get the recommended sleep for a young adult. I believe it's 8 hours."

"Nathan, I," he started. Nathan could see it in his eyes. He wanted to promise. He wanted to go along with this, but it wasn't in his nature. His eyes were so pained Nathan could hardly look at them.

Nathan stepped forward and put his hand gently on Jackson's head. He kissed him softly, his lips barely leaving a dent on the other man's. Jackson's hands shook as he put his hands up to Nathan's shoulders to pull him closer. His breath was just as shaky as they parted.

Nathan put his hand to Jackson's cheek. "How long since you ate?"

Jackson shook his head weakly. "I don't remember." Nathan's chest constricted painfully.

"Well, that's our first stop then." Jackson didn't protest as Nathan pulled him to the kitchens, but he wasn't enthusiastic, either. Nathan slipped his hand into Jackson's. It was silly, but it felt like some kind of confirmation of their relationship, like they were still children on the Ark.

They picked up their allotted rations and sat at one of the empty tables. They were mostly empty this late.

Jackson stared at his meal in what looked like confusion, like he didn't know what to do with the food.

Granted, the dried meat strips didn't look appetising, but they were better than nothing. Nathan started eating, but Jackson didn't even try to pick up his food. He looked faintly nauseated.

"Seriously," said Nathan, swallowing his mouthful. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" He put his hand on Jackson's. It was trembling.

Jackson just shook his head. Nathan's stomach was completely tied up in knots watching him.

Finally, Jackson picked up his food, chewing like it was made of leather, which wasn't far off for some of it. He swallowed with his eyes closed. Nathan kept watching him as he systematically chewed and swallowed.

When he was finished he looked at Nathan. "Thank you," he whispered.

"No worries," said Nathan.

Looking into Nathan's worried eyes, Jackson wanted to say _I love you_ , but he couldn't. The last person he'd said it to was his mother while she was dying. There were so many people he could have said it to.

He could have said it to Abby. He could have said it to Clarke, because he loved that tenacious little girl who used to get under his feet in the clinic, and actually helped out more often than not. He could have said it to Raven in Becca's lab; it had physically hurt him to watch her go through the pain she had.

He could say it to Nathan, but it seemed too concrete to say it out loud. Instead, he stood up. Only after the food did he realise how weak he'd let himself become. Not sleeping properly, barely eating, and working every waking hour. He was exhausted.

"8 hours?" He asked shakily.

"Absolutely," said Nathan, smiling, leading the way back to their bunks, scared that being in the on call room would make Jackson feel too much like he was working. Every bunk had a curtain set up to be drawn around it. _Like a hospital_ , Jackson thought.

Instead of separating, Nathan shrugged off his jacket and lay down on Jackson's bed. Jackson did the same, lying next to him on his back.

They stared at the ceiling for a couple of moments until, like they'd read each other's mind, they both turned to fold the other in his arms. Jackson slipped his arm under Nathan's head and Nathan snuggled into the crook of Jackson's shoulder.

"Before the 8 hours of sleep," whispered Jackson, and he reached to cup Nathan's cheek in his hand, raising the man's head until he could reach his lips.


End file.
